


deception

by mvrcredi



Series: cap-iron bingo fills [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Author Is Sleep Deprived, First Kiss, Getting Together, Humor, Iron man compliant, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Slash, Stony Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvrcredi/pseuds/mvrcredi
Summary: Tony mistakenly brings home a drunk blond one night. Things don't turn out to be what they seem.





	deception

**Author's Note:**

> fill for my 'au: spies/assassins' bingo square

“So you’re an engineer?”

“That I am, sweetheart. Of sorts.”

The attractive (and drunk) blond giggles, biting his lip. “You must be like... really smart, then.”

Tony grins a dashing grin, swirling the bourbon and ice in his glass—a prop, really. He’d only had a sip or two all night. “I wouldn’t like to brag, but I suppose you could say that,” Tony laughs. The blond was entertaining, truly. And awfully pleasing on the eyes.

“Hm. Well, how about we take you and that big brain of yours back to my place for a little _fun,_ perhaps,” the blond purrs, drawing a line down Tony’s chest with his index finger, leaning closer, almost into Tony—who had tensed. Had the press been not so feather light, the man might have come across the hard, ugly metal of the arc reactor nestled in Tony’s chest, something he was extremely private about. Hence why it was abnormal for him to be out at a bar with beautiful, flirtatious individuals. He had simply been in a mood.

Tony allows a smirk to form on his lips, however. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer...” he pauses. “I can’t.”

The blond (who, now that Tony thinks about it, hadn’t even introduced himself yet) pouts. “Why not?”

“For starters, you’re quite obviously drunk,” Tony says. “I can’t take advantage of you like that, no matter how enticing your implication.”

“Oh,” the blond’s face falls, but not in a way that he honestly understood, or processed what Tony had said—only in the way that he recognized he was being told “no.” He takes a moment to look back out into the bar, before turning to face Tony with rather convincing puppy dog eyes. “Can... can you at least drive me home? I don’t... my friend... I don’t see him.”

Tony stops to think. The blond could simply call a cab, yet at the same time...

There was really no hurt in helping him out. Yes, the blond may very well be drunk, but even otherwise he seemed harmless—there was barely any skin on his bones as is. He may have height on Tony, but he certainly hadn’t bulk. And taking into consideration his intoxication, the man probably wouldn’t be able to stand straight without swaying. Oh, what the hell.

“Alright, now that I can do,” he agrees, placing a hundred dollar bill on the counter, after waving down the bartender. He stands from his stool, beckoning for the still nameless blond. “Let’s go, shall we?”

The blond stumbles a bit on the way to his car, but they make it eventually. He doesn’t offer an address, nor does Tony ask. Neither comments on it, and Tony decides to bring the blond to his house. At least there, he can make sure the heavily inebriated man wouldn’t do something stupid. Their drive is peaceful. The blond nods off at some point of their trip.

He’s nudged awake after Tony pulls into his driveway, putting the Audi in park. After regaining partial consciousness, he frowns an adorable frown at his surroundings. “This isn’t my house.”

“No, but you can barely walk two feet on your own. You can crash in the guest suite tonight—it’ll be the comfiest awakening with a hangover you’ll ever have. Now c’mon,” Tony gestures his head towards the door, before stepping out himself. He crosses over to the stranger’s side.

He helps the blond in carefully, directing him towards the guest room. He collapses near instantly onto the bed. Tony runs out to grab a glass of water and some aspirin for the morning after, returning to the sound of snoring already. He personally felt bad for the blond—with his state leaving the bar, he was going to have a terrible wakeup call the next day. Tony had had his fair share of those, once upon a time.

He decides to actually go to bed himself, that night. God knows he could use some sleep.

 

-=-

 

When Tony goes to check on the mystery blond when he wakes up only a few hours later, he discovers the man is gone, the water and aspirin both remaining untouched.

Maybe he went home with a pounding headache. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Wow, this was not thought through. The mansion was huge, and full of personal (and corporate) secrets. What if... what if...

“JARVIS?” Tony calls quietly. There is no response, which is immediately alarming. He doesn’t remember recently muting JARVIS, and even if he had, the AI would have answered knowing there was a stranger residing in the house. Tony heads directly for his workshop.

There’s evidence of someone’s presence other than his own. There are papers that had been tucked away in folders strewn over his main workstation. There’s a projection still up, with tabs open he’d never looked at since he first left them on his database. Someone had been—or was still—here. But that wouldn’t make any sense... his access codes were known by two people only, and otherwise they were supposed to be near impossible to guess, or hack. _Supposed to be._

Tony is cautious stepping around his workshop. From what he could tell, this person was looking for, unsurprisingly, information regarding the Iron man suit.

_“Sir?”_ came a distorted, frantic voice.

“JARVIS?” Tony questions.

_“Sir,”_ came the voice again, confirmed to be JARVIS. It was less distorted this time, but still thoroughly panicked. _“Someone appears to have corrupted my coding.”_

“Shit, Jay,” Tony’s stomach drops, and he lowers his voice. “Are they... are they still here?”

There’s static, then a cut-off reply; “ _Yes, sir. I am detecting—“_

“ _Fuck,”_ Tony whispers to himself. Then, louder, after summoning one of his gauntlets, “Whoever’s in here, show yourself. You pull anything, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

He wills his gauntlet to whine, power up. There’s rustling behind him, and a heavy _thud_ of something metal hitting the ground. He whips around to find nothing. His heart stutters—he feels like a rabbit with how skittish he is.

Seconds later, he’s being tackled by rather graceful limbs. A foot is hooked around his armored hand, disenabling him from using the repulsor as defense. Tony had been caught so exceptionally off guard, him and whoever was latched onto him, fall back to the ground, his attacker acting as a cushion. Though it may have been uncomfortable for the person, Tony had a feeling it was exactly what they wanted.

Tony is stuck in a chokehold, trying to fend off the strong hold. Whoever this person was, they were highly trained, and very skilled.

He fires up the repulsor, aiming it forward. This launches both backwards across the floor into his workstation. This results in the person faltering their grip in hitting their head off the leg of the table.

_“Shit!”_ they exclaimed. The voice was deep—male. It was also familiar. _Could it be...?_

The painful distraction allows Tony to escape the tight grip and get to his feet. Sure enough, on the floor now nursing his injured and potentially concussed head, was the blond from the night prior. Tony doesn’t hesitate to summon the rest of the Iron man armor while the man was currently sidetracked and swearing up a storm.

“You’d had better answer my questions after leading me on only to try and search through private information,” Tony says, voice turned robotic by his modulators. He was unused to the silence inside the suit, being as JARVIS was currently incapacitated.

“I very well recall asking you to drive me home. You didn’t have to bring me here,” was the response, though it was followed by a groan. A hand is pulled away from where his head had made contact, and there’s a generous amount of blood staining his palm. Alright, so maybe Tony felt a little bad.

“ _I_ very well recall you being drunk. You hadn’t drank a single thing, had you?” Tony growls. This was not how he envisioned his Sunday morning going.

“And they call you a genius,” the blond snarks, sitting up. He holds out his non-bloodied hand as if to offer a handshake despite Tony’s current stance. “Steve Rogers, SHIELD liaison.”

Tony narrows his eyes, his mask coming up to uncover his face. “SHIELD as in Agent Coulson SHIELD? Man, I get on you guys’ radar once and suddenly you’re everywhere in my life. Why are you here, and what do you want from me this time?”

The blond—Steve—snorts. “What, you haven’t been able to figure it out yourself?”

“Honestly, I was hoping it would be something other than the usual. What’s with you guys and wanting intel on the Iron man suit? Jesus,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Would it kill you to go after something else? Just because Fury doesn’t know everything there is to know about me doesn’t mean you have to go snooping, let alone send someone to worm their way into my workshop. How did you get in here, anyway? Not even your other agents have been able to. You must be like... how did you put it? “Really smart?” I would genuinely like to know.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Steve grunts, staggering to stand. “If you hadn’t already bashed my head on the table leg I’d blame this headache on you.”

Tony drops his arms to his sides. “Rude,” he deadpans. “See if I help you.”

“Fine by me,” says Steve. He brushes past Tony, making a beeline for the door. “You didn’t give me enough time to decrypt your files anyway. If I’m feeling up to it I’ll tell Fury to lay off.”

“If you’re feeling up to it?” Tony calls.

Steve simply shrugs, back facing Tony.

“What does that _mean?!”_ Tony near shrieks. He doesn’t get any form of reply afterwards, as Steve is out the door and up the stairs in record time.

 

-=-

 

The next time Tony sees Steve is weeks later after getting home from a business trip. He had went down to his workshop to be immediately greeted by Steve splayed out on the ratty brown leather couch, sipping on what looked to be a more appetizing smoothie compared to the green sludge Tony usually received from DUM-E.

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting.”

“And why do I get the feeling that’s not the _only_ or _real_ reason as to why you’re here?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

“I’m off work thanks to the head injury you inflicted. I’m here on my own terms,” Steve takes another sip of his smoothie. “Wanted to apologize for intruding, I guess.”

“Wow, that really sound like one hell of an apology,” Tony remarks, tone dripping sarcasm. He strides across the room to plop down on the couch next to Steve after the latter moves his feet.

Steve huffs. “I’m sorry for looking through your stuff, breaking JARVIS, and tackling you to the ground, only to have it work out in your favour. There, better?”

“Um...”

Steve thrusts the pink drink towards Tony. “Apology smoothie?”

“You’ve already had half of it.”

“Yeah, but it’s good. And it’ll fix every issue we have. Try some,” Steve insists. Tony does, in fact, try some, and does, in fact, enjoy it.

“What’s in here? There’s not some sort of truth serum, right?” Steve rolls his eyes at Tony.

“Fruit. Unlike your disgusting mystery smoothies, I try to not only make mine healthy, but taste good as well. Now,” Steve props his feet over Tony’s lap. “We’re going to spend some quality time together for you almost cracking my skull open.”

Tony eyes Steve suspiciously. “You sure you’re allowed to do that? You know, being a SHIELD agent and all? I thought you were all robots. Also, how do you know about my health smoothies?”

“I know my limits. And I’m a spy, remember?”

“Is that so?”

 

-=-

 

Tony takes a liking to Steve.

He quickly discovers the agent it witty, smart, charming and caring. Not to mention, he still stands by what he thought from the beginning, that there was no denying—Steve was handsome.

He was also a talented artist, fiercely good at hand-to-hand combat, and a decent chef. Steve was actually perfect—not that Tony would admit that to the blond. He might have a field day to pair with a boosted ego.

When Steve is cleared to go back out on missions, Tony finds himself missing his company. After their ‘bonding day’ Steve would typically visit three or four times a week, for several hours at a time. He’d met Pepper a few times, too, and she seemed to like the agent as well—though, maybe not in the way Tony speculated he did himself.

It had been two months since he’d last seen, or even chatted with Steve. He had sulked a lot. Pepper would roll her eyes and tell him to get over it. That he would see Steve soon enough. “Stop complaining,” was also often said.

The moment Steve next stepped foot in Tony’s mansion, Tony surges forward to greet Steve with a kiss, unable to help himself, until realization smacks him upside the head. He had pulled away, terrified. He had only ever _sincerely_ liked a limited amount of people _that_ way and he had just gone and screwed it up.

But Steve is laughing, face lit up in a blinding smile. “I guess you missed me, huh?”

Tony’s eyes widen. “What? I, um. Well—“

He’s cut off when Steve takes his face with delicate fingers and brings him into another kiss, this time much deeper, and more passionate.

To put it simply, they made a night of it.

(Especially when Steve puts his flexibility from years of spy training to use.)

**Author's Note:**

> the end! i hope you enjoyed!  
> i need to stop posting stories so late at night, lol. it's currently 1:40am... yikes.
> 
> till next time! <3


End file.
